Landing on Faraway Shores

Wednesday morning, I awoke distressed in the middle of my few hours’ sleep. “You’re leaving them!” flew threw my mind. I tried to calm my mind and fall back asleep, but I was still a bit saddened. Was it the right decision, leaving everyone behind to go to Hawaii for Grad School?

I awoke again around 4:30 or 5 and dragged myself from bed. My bags were packed, but I was certain I had forgotten some things. I would have to make sure my extra pair of glasses got into my bags along with a few text books and other odds and ends. Otherwise, well… they’d have to be shipped later.

The ride to the airport was less sad than last time. There was no crying girlfriend there to say goodbye. Only me and my parents. They chatted and brought up things about Hawaii, just trying to make conversation. Me, I just wanted to get on that flight and leave it all behind me. I love my parents, but when you’ve got something big like this going on, the last thing you need is to be reminded of the million small details you have to take care of when you get there.

We arrived, parked, and walked in. This time, things were less formal. There were no Japanese women waiting to check our bags and help us find the check-in location. I waited in line and grabbed my tickets, then walked to security. Mom, Dad, and I said goodbye, hugged, and exchanged “I love you’s,” then I trudged into line. When I looked over my shoulder a minute later, they were already gone. That’s when I almost cried. We had both grown, both experienced this before, and this time they walked away without looking back. I had become a grown man, and they were growing old.

* * * * *

The first flight was loud, cramped, and tiresome. Two or three infants were riding the plane and took turns crying the entire time. There was no food served, except a small back of trail mix and a soda, and I passed the time reading “The Forever War” and messing with my game boy. If only I had found Chrono Trigger, I might have relived some old memories, but who knows where that cartridge has gotten off to.

After that, I stayed over in Seattle for about nine hours. Outside, the temperature was only 59 degrees and the city looked nice, but I didn’t have it in me to venture in and out of the airport again looking for a few hours of adventure. I dozed in the airport, read, and ate sushi. After some time, the next flight finally came in.

This time, things went a bit smoother and I dozed for most of the flight. When I landed, night time had finally come. I had tried calling the hostel in Seattle, and a shuttle service as well, but neither of them could pick me up when I arrived around 11. So, I waited in the long line for a taxi and sped across Honolulu to my place. The ride costs about $35.

When I got to the hostel, this Asian looking guy with a Russian accent was waiting to check me in, and, as I waited for him to process me payment and find my room key, I saw Caleb run by.

Caleb is one of the grad students entering the program with me in Hawaii. I had already been a little skeptical about him when we met online. He seemed to be fairly conservative, posting about church retreats and things of that nature and commenting negatively on something I posted about the Chick-Fil-A scandal. In person, he’s a jittery, scrawny guy with a somewhat flighty temperament. He seemed to like me, but I wasn’t so sure about him.

Luckily, though, he was hanging out with some cool people: A German brother and sister, a black martial arts instructor, an Asian girl named Vicky, and a Thai guy nick-named Bang. I grabbed a beer and just like that, my adventure began.